There is no other pleasure more ruinous to mortals than sexual desire, which makes even a wise man a fool. Glory is won by work. The fame of victory and the works of war are a soldier's delights. The beds of women are a coward's pleasure.Related post: Make Love, Not War.
οὐ γὰρ τερπωλῆς ὀλοώτερον ἄλλο βροτοῖσιν
ἐς λέχος ἱεμένης, ἥ τ᾽ ἄφρονα φῶτα τίθησι
καὶ πινυτόν περ ἐόντα· πόνῳ δ᾽ ἄρα κῦδος ὀπηδεῖ·
ἀνδρὶ γὰρ αἰχμητῇ νίκης κλέος ἔργα τ᾽ Ἄρηος
τερπνά· φυγοπτολέμῳ δὲ γυναικῶν εὔαδεν εὐνή.
"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).
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Wednesday, October 08, 2014
Make War, Not Love
Quintus Smyrnaeus 1.736-740 (tr. Frederick M. Combellack):